


Tremble

by way1203



Series: Touch-Starved Creeds [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Affection, Allies To Lovers, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Awkward Romance, Blindfolds, Comfort, Conflicting Creeds, Cunnilingus, Dominant Din Djarin, Dominant Mando, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Generous Lover Mando, Gentle Din Djarin, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Mando, Gentle Sex, Gentleness, Late Night Conversations, Love, Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Porn Mild Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Kissing, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Soft Din Djarin, Soft Mando, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22218961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/way1203/pseuds/way1203
Summary: Mando's given you a choice:I can take you fast, or I can make you beg until you shatter.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, The Mandalorian & You, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Series: Touch-Starved Creeds [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599439
Comments: 14
Kudos: 312





	Tremble

**Author's Note:**

> Mando gets his rain check in this one. Thank you to all who read and gave kudos for Twinge! I immediately started writing this one after I posted that one. 
> 
> A quick note before the fun starts, I wanted to play with the idea of Din speaking, or at least knowing, a bit of Mandalorian/Mando'a in addition to Basic and whatever he may have spoken before he was taken in. That said, Din speaks a few words such as _cyar’ika_ and _mesh’la_ throughout. See the end notes for translations/pronunciations. 
> 
> Contains sex, love, a bit of anxiety, and an important conversation about creeds.

"Easy. I've got you."

Mando's right hand rests between your shoulder blades and his left hand drifts down to grip your hip. He keeps his arm hooked around your side to hold you close. You straddle his lap, your knees resting on either side of his hips. His mouth finds the base of your neck. A kiss and a nip send your back into an arch but he works to keep you in place. Without his helmet, he's even more naked than you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, a moan leaving you shuddering against him as he rocks into you.

"Oh, _look at you_." Mando's mouth drifts to your ear. He plants a kiss on its conch. "You're so beautiful."

The thick fabric across your eyes remains in place. He'd knotted the blindfold tight enough that any concern of it slipping never entered either of your minds. You blink behind the cloth but only find darkness. Mando's speed is just slow enough that you're able to savor each thrust while wishing he'd increase his speed to grant you relief from his teasing. You lean back again, a move that makes Mando shift the location of his kisses. The warmth of his mouth on your bare breasts causes you to cry out, your hips bucking.

" _Easy_ ," he moans.

It was a sound you longed to hear again. On his next thrust, you manage to surprise him by lowering yourself until he fills you to the hilt. Mando grunts. You sigh, satisfied at the feeling of being full.

"So much for taking it slow. You liked that, didn't you?"

You nod.

"What do you want?"

"I want you, Din." You hear yourself and feel your cheeks burn. When did you get so desperate for him?

"I'm _in_ you, _cyar'ika_." His statement turns you on more than you cared to admit. "What do you want?"

"I want..."

"Yes?" When you struggle to say it aloud, he takes a moment to touch your cheek and roll his hips. He manages to bury his cock deeper inside you. "Tell me what you want me to do to you, _cyar'ika_."

 _Everything!_ you want to cry, but you're too busy moaning into his neck. Mando chuckles. You let him guide you into a new rhythm for riding him. He holds your ass, pulling you up his shaft before you slide yourself back down, taking all of him in. It's all so satisfying and nearly too much. It doesn't help that he keeps calling you things like _darling_ and _beloved_. Sometimes, when he's relaxed or his guard is down, he's frustrated, hurt, or turned on, you noticed the Mandalorian slip from Basic to Mando'a or, occasionally, his native tongue. The latter was something you only noticed a handful of times but you felt happiness for him when he did. You wondered how much of his original language he even remembered after being raised on Mando'a and Basic for so long. You also felt a twinge of sadness because you only vaguely remembered your own. Din's language alternation seemed to increase after he saved you (either that, or you were unobservant of his speech patterns until then), and you felt honored that he was comfortable enough around you to be himself. He'd called the child _ad'ika_ frequently enough that you knew it was something he'd been doing for a while. However, you noticed he started to call you _cyar'ika_ , _cyare_ , and a few other words after the incident. During times like these when you're riding him as he fucks you with one goal in mind, it makes you so aroused you can hardly speak.

Unsatisfied with your lack of response, Mando tries again. "What do you want me to do you?"

You hold him tight as you pant against his shoulder. You're not sure you can take much more if he's going to keep talking to you this way.

"Let me try a different question. How do you want to come?" Mando's fingers slip between your thighs and circle your clit with your slickness. "I can take you fast, or I can make you beg until you shatter."

You're speechless. You're reminded of the first time you'd had each other. He'd given you a choice: _I can eat you out right here against this wall until you scream, or I can fuck you into the mattress. Your call._ Desperate for relief, you'd chosen the mattress, which resulted in the Mandalorian bending you over and taking you until you both came so hard you'd lost your balance. That was back when you'd met. Now, you'd known each other. You were familiar with him and him with you. In just the few times you'd had sex, he'd learned when to be gentle or rough, what you liked, and how to tip you over the edge in a few minutes or prolong your release across hours.

The latter was maddening. He'd only done it once, but it led to an unforgettably amazing afternoon. He kept bringing you so close that you nearly came but he would manage to stop right before you lost control. The moans would catch in your stomach, your chest, your throat. Every time you were right _there_ , and every time he stopped. You whimpered. You groaned. You shifted to squeeze your thighs together or rock against him but you never found relief until he allowed it. He kept your legs parted and your hands pinned just out of reach. When he did decide to finally touch you, it was pure teasing. Otherwise, he _literally_ kept his hands to himself. He stroked his cock while you watched and begged him to let you do something about the raging hard-on in his fist. All the while Mando watched your reactions from behind his helmet which only turned you on more. He eventually let you ride him for a moment. That moment led to him blindfolding you so he could kiss your clit and withhold his tongue from you for an obscene amount of time.

_I can take you fast or I can make you beg until you shatter_

You weigh the choices Mando's given you now. When he took you fast, it was extraordinary. However, the last time he'd made you beg, you didn't come for over an hour. You almost couldn't handle it. He left love bites on your inner thighs and breasts. He sucked a mark on your neck that remained for a week. By the time his cock pounded into you, you were a mess of moans. You actually wept in relief when you finished. You shouted his name so loud you were certain that more than the frozen bounties could hear. You were thankful the child slept peacefully through the afternoon because it was a miracle you didn't wake him. When you and Mando were finished, he kissed you slow and gentle. You had no idea Din was capable of the level of aftercare he provided. He removed your blindfold and helped clean you up. He rubbed soothing gel against your skin to ease anywhere he'd nipped, grabbed, or sucked too hard. He told you how perfect you were, how beautiful. When the concept of having him be so attentive toward you while wearing the helmet worked you up again, he plunged his fingers inside you and gently made you come again. Afterwards, Mando helped clean you up in the shower. He dressed you, got you water, and helped you get comfortable in his bunk. He even fell asleep with you.

The memory of it all sent a surge of pleasure to your core. You suck on the skin at the nape of his neck. After a few moments, you find his ear and ask, "How do you want to make me come?"

Your actions and words manage to pull a deep groan from him. Mando's hips snap into you. " _Kriff_..."

"Is that your answer? _Let me try a different question_." You tease him with his own words. Squeezing yourself around his cock, you feel him jerk beneath you. "What do you want to do to me, _Mandalorian_?"

"Savor you...feel you around me—"

"I _am_ around you," you remind.

He growls. You grin. The authoritative nature of the Mandalorian is activated and the idea of what comes next arouses you to no end. He moves faster. "Do you actually want to hear what I want, or are you going to keep talking? Because I can, and _will_ , stop."

You cry his name, reaching out to brace yourself on the wall behind him. "Don't stop!"

"Then will you be quiet and let me tell you?"

You give a nod.

"Good girl."

Mando doesn't slow his pounding and you gladly let him take the lead. You bite your lip at the praise to silence yourself. You're not sure he fully comprehends what it does to you. It doesn't really make sense to you either how two words that negatively remind you of their treatments can also feel so satisfying coming from him.

"You like it when I call you a _good girl_." It's not a question. He understands. When you smile, Mando hums. "Are you a good girl or are you a bad girl?"

" _Don't_ ," you whine, "I'm gonna... _come_. You're gonna— _ah!_ — make me come."

"That's _exactly_ what I want."

" _Din_..."

"I'm not done, _cyare_." Mando adjusts his pace. You sigh as he fills you with slow, purposeful thrusts. "I never finished telling you...what I want to do to you...I want to take you, make you moan...see you come, hear you scream my name...then devour you."

You see the pattern in his desires. Everything he wants is sensory. Everything he wants is something he can't effectively have with the helmet on. His hands grip your ass as you continue to take him. You're not sure you can last much longer.

Suddenly, Mando pulls out. He rests his forehead against yours. "Will you let me?"

You lift your chin and kiss him in return. "Yes."

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

He leans you back against the mattress, kisses your neck, and sheaths himself in you again. You slide your hand down his back until you feel the curve of his ass and give it a squeeze to urge him on. He groans against your skin. At the rate he's pumping, you'll both be a mess when you come. He fills you completely, then slowly, painstakingly, eases himself out before pushing himself inside you again. Mando's taking his time, savoring you as he said he would. You're doing the same to him. You raise and lower your hips with each push and pull of his. His smile tickles your skin as you meet him with every thrust. He grips your outer thigh. Mando braces himself and you feel the thump of his hand on the mattress beside your head. As you continue milking his cock, you feel your walls become a vice around him.

"So tight," he mutters. "You feel...so _good_." He bottoms out suddenly, hitting your end so rough and quick, it makes you cry out. He stops. "Did that hurt?"

"A bit," you admit, "but it felt good. Will you...?"

He repeats the action. You give an inward groan. The hand on your thigh slips to the bend of your knee. You let him spread your legs further apart. He delves deeper inside you. At this angle, you feel the spark of your release slowly build between your legs. Mando sends it on a path upward when he brushes against your clit in just the right way.

"Din, I..."

He kisses your lips. You open your mouth. The texture of his tongue against yours sends your orgasm shooting that much faster up your body. He feels you shake against him. "I want to hear you," says Mando. "Don't hold back."

"I won't."

Mando's smacking into you now and it's all you need to finally tip over the edge.

"Mando—I—I'm _...gonna—!_ "

His breath quickens. You wonder how close he is but the thought is pushed from your mind when he gives another shove and all you can do is cry out: _Din!_

You can't bring yourself to stifle the moans. You've fallen too deep into the pleasure he's giving you. You grip the blankets beneath you. You clutch his hip. But it's not enough. You're floating away and it seems the only thing keeping you connected to him and this moment is his cock. He pushes forward causing you to arch off the bunk. He's so deep that he's coaxing your G-spot. It's not long before Mando's gratification overlaps with yours. He gives another shove and groans your name, his voice strained. His hips jerk against yours as he spills inside you. You desperately long to see him when he's unraveled like this. You wonder if his pupils are blown to Kamino and back with arousal. You reach up and wrap your fingers around the slightly curled strands of his mussed hair. Mando says your name again and you say his. You come down with a sigh. He kisses you deeply as his hips slow against yours. He grinds himself into you once, twice, until he's ridden out his aftershocks. Your breaths collide when your lips part.

He touches your cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too, Din."

"Was it...?"

You nod lazily as he pulls out. Bringing a hand to your forehead, you ask, "Did I really just…? I mean, I think I just—"

"Came?" He kisses your nose. You can hear the smile in his voice. He gives a light laugh. "Yes, you did. And you looked as beautiful as the sounds you made."

"Mesh'la?" you ask. It's one of the few words from the Mando'a language that you know. _Beautiful_ , if you remember its meaning correctly. You've only heard it spoken by Din on occasion.

"Yes, _mesh'la_. Very good. You're so beautiful, and I'm not done showing you how much I love you."

"Is that so?"

He kisses a path down to your center before he makes good on the promise of his last desire. "Your taste, your smell...do you have any idea how _intoxicating_ you are?" Mando kisses your entrance. His tongue dips inside you, lapping at the creamy slick of your combined cum. He gives a moan in the back of his throat. " _Kriff_."

He moves up your body to kiss you deeply. You eagerly welcome him. The taste of the two of you on his tongue makes you long for what he's going to do next. He moves back down your body, parting your knees as he goes. You practically hear the gears churning in his head. You feel his gaze on your cunt and know he's determining all the ways he's going to satisfy you.

"Are you ready?" asks Mando.

You lean back against his pillow and take a deep breath. "Yes."

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, _udesiir, cyare_. Relax for me. Okay?"

There's a pause. Then Mando devours you. Your hands shoot forward as you shout his name. He runs his tongue along your folds. You thread your fingers through his hair, giving it a gentle tug when he sucks your clit.

" _Please_ ," you beg. "Don't stop!"

He doesn't. You're still sensitive, still feeling the remnants of your last orgasm, but Mando is determined, greedy even. He's starving, and you're every meal he's missed. You feel nothing short of amazing. A fiery ache begins to burn and you bite your lip to steady yourself. You lose track of what he's doing to you: kisses planting, teeth grazing, tongue tasting and diving into every last bit of your core. You welcome it all. You squirm beneath him but he keeps you in place with his forearm.

"Din?"

He hums against you. You can't answer, can't tell him what you're so close to doing. Your mounting release makes anything other than whimpering and panting seem impossible. Mando smirks against your sex. You feel cheated not being able to watch him as he works. His thumb rolls your clit again and your head lolls. Your breath increases and shortens. Helpless beneath him, you struggle to stave off the inevitable. He knows what he's doing to you and his goal is clear.

He begins taunting you. "Aww, such a good girl. So turned on right now that you're almost there, aren't you?"

You're too close. You barely manage to make out a _yes_ between your sounds.

"Then come for me."

His fingers delve inside you. That's all it takes. Moaning, and almost sore with over-stimulation, your breath catches as you cry his name. He coaxes you through another orgasm, curling his fingers inside you again and again until you coat them. You reach your end and settle back down. He slows to a stop. Your racing heart evens out. Mando sucks on his fingers then captures your lips. The taste of yourself mixed with the remnants of him sends you moaning in his mouth.

"I love you," he sighs.

You reach for his cheek. "I love you too, Din."

After another kiss, Mando slips his helmet on and finally removes your blindfold. He then cleans you both with a couple of cloths. When he's done, the two of you separate for the first time in what feels like hours. He pulls on a pair of underwear and goes into another area of the Crest to grant you privacy while you finish up. After a short visit to the vac tube, you slip into a shirt just as he returns.

"How is the baby?"

"Still sleeping," says Mando.

"I'll need to make him something to eat when he wakes." You stifle a yawn and muse, "Maybe he'll like fruit this time."

"We'll see, but first you need to rest. I'll feed him if you're still asleep when he wakes."

You return to bed where the Mandalorian's waiting for you and curl up against him. He brings an arm around your back as you rest your head on his chest. Sighing in satisfaction, your eyelids grow heavy. Din's worn you out.

"How was it for you?"

You look up at him. "Perfect. Thank you for that. How was I?"

"You were perfect. Thank you for letting me show you how much I love you."

"It was literally my pleasure."

He laughs. "I heard."

" _Mando!_ " You make a face that curls into a smile. "I hope you'll let me return the favor one day."

"I will." He watches you for a moment then adds, "One day, I'll let you see me."

Your heart begins to race. Questions flood your mind. Had he said what you thought? If he did, did he mean it? You shake your head. "But your creed."

"There is a way. When that time comes, I'll let you see me without the helmet."

You can't help but fear the worst. "You'll be...alive, won't you?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be when I—Oh. You think I meant..." Mando sighs. He lifts your chin and you look at his visor, this time trying harder than ever before to see through the T to his eyes. "No. When you see me, it won't be because anything bad has happened."

You don't want him to promise because you know anything could happen to him between now and when he allows you to see him. Chewing your bottom lip, you feel a bit of nervousness creep through your mind. You think through the idea of him removing his helmet in front of you. Then you remember what he said about taking it off and what it means. "But you won't be able to put it back on again," you press.

"By the time that day comes, I don't think I'll want to put it on again."

"You don't mean that."

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't." He cards his fingers through your hair. "Besides, there is a way that I could remove my helmet in front of you and still be able to continue wearing it."

"How?"

Mando remains quiet and you wonder if he'll actually tell you. He doesn't. Instead he says, "I'll tell you when the time comes."

"By then, it'll be obvious, won't it?"

"In a way." When you frown, he pulls you close to his chest. "I'm sorry for not being more straightforward."

You shrug, "You've probably told me more than I should know."

"Not quite."

Realization creeps its way to the forefront of your brain. "I would have to swear the Creed."

"No." He says it with such immediacy that it makes you jump. When he continues, his response sounds more Din than Mandalorian. "I wouldn't ask that of you."

"What if I want it? What if I want to acknowledge and accept the Way?"

"No. No more creeds."

"But Mando—"

"No." He's firm. You shrink back. He cups your jaw in an attempt to be gentle but his tone is still unyielding. "I'm not going to ask you to take my creed as your own. I'll never ask that of you. The creed you adopted before we met, the one you were raised with, that very one you're trying so hard to unlearn, _that_ creed was enough for your lifetime. Mine, albeit kinder, was enough for _mine_. When I take off my helmet in front of you, it won't be because I expect something from you in return. You will have done enough for me. You already _have_ done enough for me. When I take this off, it will be because—" he stops himself.

"Because why?"

He says nothing.

"Because, what, I'll be your wife?" The word sounds foreign on your tongue but you don't regret saying it. You piece together the idea of family and the possibility that, if he were to remove the helmet with you watching, you would have to be family to him. The only way that would happen is if you were married or if you were the mother of his biological children. "If it's not because I'd be your wife at that time," you mused, "then would it be because I'd be pregnant?"

He doesn't say anything to affirm or deny either of your guesses. A sinister thought from your creed suddenly enters your mind.

No. Not _now._

You try to push it away. Panic swirls in your mind. Your head races and you realize you're working yourself up. You can't help yourself when you blurt, "Or is it really because you'll be leaving me behind somewhere forever because you'll be moving on since I won't be of use to you any longer?"

He remains quiet. The visor burns you. You're annoyed that you can't read his expression behind the metal. There's frustration, both his and yours, in the air. It makes you want to sob when you try to take a deep breath. You manage to swallow and calm yourself before the tears burn your eyes. You wonder how long he plans to look at you like that. Then he finally speaks.

"Not of use to me any longer? What would make you think—?" he stops. He knows why.

You wonder if he's rolling his eyes under the protection of the helmet as your upbringing rears its head again. He places a hand over your eyes. His kiss surprises you and you hear yourself sob against his mouth. He separates and says your name.

"I'm not using you. I would _never_ use you." There's a bit of upset in his tone but it's not directed at you. He gives you another kiss and strokes your cheek. "I'm not going to leave you behind somewhere. And as for your speculations regarding family? If you were my wife, I'd—that would—listen, it's not something that would have to happen for me to show you who I am. The same goes for pregnancy. Besides, as far as I'm concerned, you're already mother to my foundling. But, if you and I manage to make a baby one day, if we managed to conceive one just now even, know that it is not something that has to happen for me to determine whether or not I take off this helmet in front of you."

Your breath hitches.

"I told you I love you, and I _do_." Your name is sweet on his tongue when he says it and you want to admire it, but you can't. Not when it's happening in the middle of a conversation that carries this much weight. Not when he's being more vulnerable than his comfort level allows. You feel his eyes bearing into yours as you stare up at his visor, too afraid to break the eye contact you're certain you're making with him. His voice is deliberate when he speaks. "I love you. I don't say those words, hell, I _haven't_ for years until _you_. I do not use them lightly. When I show you my face, it will be because it's the right time for me to show you all of me. That is all. I wouldn't ask or need you to follow the Way. You wouldn't need to be my wife or mother to my children." His voice drops off and you swear you hear him add, " _Though that would be nice._ "

You whisper even more softly, "Yes, it would."

Mando pauses again and you wonder if he's heard you. He removes his hand and you see the helmet is still on. You stretch forward, wrapping your arms around his torso. Another sob manages to break through. You feel pathetic.

He rubs your back. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" you sniff. "It's not your fault. _I_ should be sorry."

"No, you shouldn't. You have no reason to apologize. Look, I know it's hard, but I just need you to understand that I'm not like them and I'm not how they made you think of people. I wouldn't do those things to you. It's against the Way to treat...I mean, I'm not…" He gives an exasperated sigh. "I wouldn't do those awful things to you because I love you."

You hiccup against his skin. "Din...I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I'm not upset with you. You've done nothing wrong. You can't help what remains inside you of your creed, especially when it ran so deep. What they did to you, what they made you believe and do, it's…" He doesn't say what he thinks about it all out of respect, though you know he desperately wants to. Instead, he shifts gears. "Don't be sorry. You're working to undo the damage."

"I'm weak."

"That's your creed talking. You're strong. Do you hear me?"

You nod.

"Good."

He lays back down and pulls you with him. Mando's fingertips trace the curve of your shoulder. You try to calm yourself by matching his even breaths. It only manages to work after a couple of tries. Fatigue weighs heavy on your eyes.

"Are you okay now?" Mando's fingers brush against your hairline.

"I think so," you admit. "Thank you...for everything. I'm sorry I ruined the moment."

"You didn't. I should have been more assuring when I brought it up. I didn't mean to make you anxious."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Get some rest." It comes out as more of a demand than a suggestion. He softens. "I mean, you look tired. I think I played with you a little too hard, didn't I?"

Sleep begins to envelop you, pulling you down with a weight heavier than beskar. You give a small laugh. "But you felt so kriffing good. Worth it. Good play."

Mando chuckles. "You're not making full sense. Go to sleep."

"M'not tired." You try to shake your head but you end up nuzzling your cheek against his bare chest. His heartbeat instantly relaxes you.

"Your eyes are closed."

"So?"

"Rest, cyar'ika."

"But...don't want this to end. Feels good...laying here with you."

"Get some sleep. I'll be right here to make you feel even better when you wake up."

**Author's Note:**

> Translations (per [Mando'a database](http://mandoa.org))  
> mesh'la - [MAYSH`lah] - beautiful  
> cyare - [SHAH-ray] - beloved  
> cyar'ika - [shar-EE-kah] - darling, sweetheart  
> ad'ika - [ah-DEE-kah] - little one, son  
> udesiir - [oo-DAY-seer] - relax, take it easy, calm down
> 
> I might add a third part to this little saga. I apologize for the mild angst. While rewatching, the conversation in Chapter 4 caught my attention, particularly with the way he tells Omera he was grateful he was taken in. When her question somewhat broaches his feelings about wearing the helmet, especially when it's somewhat insinuated that he's doing it not only because of his belief in the Creed but because a part of him feels like he owes it to the Mandalorians who took him in, he somewhat blocks off his emotions rather suddenly and shuts it down with "This is the Way". I read too much into things but that scene made me want to explore a bit of that here, hence the "No more creeds" comment. I possibly might delve into my speculations in another fic....


End file.
